


I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.

by TheImmortalThiefLord



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImmortalThiefLord/pseuds/TheImmortalThiefLord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia tries to keep the peace between herself and Lincoln</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why did she?

She sits by the fire, a mug in her hand, and the flames dancing at her feet. A shadow fills her eyes, a spark that is not a reflection of the fire. "Lincoln-"

He cuts her off with a hand on her shoulder. "I know, okay? I know what you said before, you don't have to keep explaining yourself. We all make mistakes."

Her heart feels heavy in her chest, and tears prick her eyes. "I'll sleep on the floor tonight, you can have the bed."

"But-"

 

 

 


	2. The Day Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before. The day it happened.

The blood wouldn't come off. Clarke screamed in pain and fear, scraping her hands in the dirt and rocks on the ground. Hot tears were blurring her eyes but she couldn't move to wipe them away. Her screams kept coming, over and over. Then she was wet, drenched in liquid. She was burning, drowning, flying and falling.

With a gasp Clarke awoke.

"Princess?" Bellamy was standing next to her bed. "Hey, you were just dreaming. It's okay," He gently released Clarke's desperate grip on his shirt and sat down on the edge of her bed. He was silent for a minute before talking again: "It was him again, wasn't it." It wasn't a question. He knew.

Clarke nodded quickly and turned her back to Bellamy. She didn't want to talk about it with him. She didn't want to talk about it with anyone.

The weight on her bed lifted, and she heard him leave the tent. She tried to convince herself that it was fine, she wanted to be left alone, but the silence was too hard to bear. Turning over, Clarke was surprised to see Octavia watching her. Octavia quickly put a finger to her lips and pointed at Clarke's sleeping mother. Clarke nodded.

Slipping a mug of warm tea into Clarke's hands, Octavia pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. She looked uncomfortable, but determined. "Look, Clarke, you're not going to make it go away by not talking to anyone. You've got to talk sometime."

Clarke stubbornly shook her head. The tea was hot but nice tasting. It calmed her and made her sleepy.

Then something broke in Clarke, and the words spilled out of her mouth like a tide. She told Octavia everything, how the pain ate her up every night, how the nightmares wore her down bit by bit, and how he continued to visit her in her mind even when she told him to leave her alone. Octavia listened to her for over an hour, until Clarke was falling asleep and Octavia was burning with rage for Lexa and pain for Clarke.

Before she knew what she was doing, Octavia was tracing a cut on Clarke's lip, and then pulling her body up from the bed. Their lips met, cautiously at first, and then with a firey passion. And Octavia was pulling up, away from Clarke, with fear written all over her. She scrambled out from the tent without looking back, leaving the camp and running as fast as she could. Her heart was racing and her lungs burning before she tripped over a root hidden in the leaves. She flew through the air and landed hard on the ground, blood pouring from a gash on her leg. She tried frantically to figure out why she'd done that. Clarke was off-limits, she was the girl that Bellamy loved.

And then there was Lincoln. What would he do if he knew what's she'd done. His hurt would be worse than a thousand arrows.

The trees spun around her as everything went black.


End file.
